


against the world

by jeeksungs



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Character Death, Coming Out, Coming of Age, First Love, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Enemies, Friends to Lovers, Interrogation, M/M, Murder, Oneshot, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:34:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23474722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeeksungs/pseuds/jeeksungs
Summary: If Mark could change anything about his life, it would be meeting Lee Taeyong.
Relationships: Hyuck - Relationship, Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Lee Taeyong, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan & Mark Lee, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee, Mark Lee/Lee Taeyong
Comments: 12
Kudos: 57





	against the world

**Author's Note:**

> pretty sure my sleep paralysis demon possessed me and i ended up writing all of this over two nights, but it was so worth it. 
> 
> i hope you guys enjoy my first published work here! i'm so excited to finally release it

The truth is, Mark’s life begins to fall apart even before he meets Donghyuck.

He realizes this when he wakes up, face pressed against the ice-cold, concrete floor of a prison cell; when the guards drag his uncooperative, limp body into an interrogation room; when he’s face-to-face with Detective Jeong Jaehyun, handcuffed to a cold, metal table. The handcuffs dig into the flesh of his wrists, but he only fights them once and gives up as soon as he realizes they won’t give in. He just wants to thumb away the crusted blood staining his cheek, and pick out the flakes under his nails.

The room is foreign to him. It’s what he’s seen in movies and read in books, but he has never fathomed the idea of being in one himself. There’s a two-way glass that Mark aimlessly stares at as he wonders who’s listening in on the other side. It doesn’t faze him, however, because he just feels numb and hollow. The emptiness makes Mark feel less like a human and more like a vessel.

He can’t figure out just how he ended up in the situation. Everything is smooth in his memory up until his supposed arrest—a tear in the fabric of his recollection. He digs his palms into his temples, and then presses against the soft flesh under his eyes, frustrated by the stunted gears in his head. As much as he begs them to click and start spinning, they remain rusted in place.

But he can’t ask the brooding man standing over him. He can’t look up into his cold, unforgiving eyes.

“There’s no use in lying, Mark,” Detective Jeong Jaehyun says gruffly, gaze like steel, “the prints match.”

Mark doesn’t know what to say. First of all, he can’t fucking remember what he’s doing in the prison house. He’s sure that everything was finally going right in his life, so where did it all go wrong? Where the hell is Donghyuck?

He drums his fingers against the table—a habit that’s rooted in his anxiety. Mark’s fingers are stained and pruned like roses, and as much as he tries to paint the table red, they only flake off. He’s sure his heartbeat is faster than the drumming of his fingers, his mind perhaps speeding off twice as fast. 

His stomach twists. If Hyuck is imprisoned, it’s all over. There’s a limit to how much the boy can take; being thrown in the slammer would be intolerable for him. Mark knows he needs to get to him immediately because Hyuck is the boy who feels too much and too little at the same time, who looks for the part of him that ran away, who self-destructs when he feels the world closing in on him.

Mark works up the courage to look at Detective Jeong in the eye, which makes the bigger man stiffen up, biceps flexing under his white button-up. One could argue that his body was sculpted by God himself with his dimples carved in so meticulously and his shoulders so square and broad. 

There’s so much pain in Mark’s voice as he asks, “Where’s Donghyuck?”

Detective Jeong’s lips press into a thin, grim line, dimples cutting into his pale cheeks. Mark decides that can’t be a good reaction.

Mark continues, “He didn’t do anything, I swear. He was just there. He didn’t do anything.”

“We don’t know where he is,” Detective Jeong informs him, “and we need your help to find him, Mark. Will you cooperate?”

 _Cooperate._ Mark hates that word. He knows Detective Jeong is just trying to sugarcoat Mark’s betrayal. Mark knows he’s looking down on him, ready to push him to his limit. At the same time, he needs to figure out where Hyuck is and warn him before the authorities get to him, so he has no other excuse but to work with Detective Jeong. 

“Will you make sure he’s safe?” Mark bargains, to which Detective Jeong affirms with a nod and a grunt. Mark hesitates and provides an opening for him, so Jaehyun takes the opportunity. 

“Listen, Mark, you’re seventeen. I know you’re a good kid. We just need to know the story before we jump to any conclusions and make a false arrest.” 

Mark stays silent. He despises his old habit of shutting down like this, but he can’t help it. 

Detective Jeong sighs and sits in the chair across from him so that they’re at eye-level with each other. “Mark, look, just tell me what happened last night. Remember, this is for Donghyuck’s safety. We just need to find him and make sure he’s safe, okay?” 

Mark understands. After all, Hyuck’s a stick of trinitrotoluene lit at both ends.

He sounds hollow when he replies, “You can’t tell a story from the ending.”

Detective Jeong acknowledges this and leans forward, hands clasped in front of him. “Then let’s hear it from the beginning.”

━━━━━━━━

If Mark could change anything about his life, it would be meeting Lee Taeyong. 

Their first meeting is at the age of fourteen. Moving from Vancouver, Canada to Seoul, Korea is an unexpected shift in Mark’s life, and he doesn’t expect to find many friends at his new high school. Starting new is one thing, but entering unknown territory with people already acclimated in their respective groups is another. People flock to comfort, and Mark Lee is sure that no one will want to step out of their comfort zone and take a stranger into their friend group. 

And then Taeyong swoops in like an angel sent from the heavens.

At first, he’s awkward. They’re both fourteen years old and going through the initial stages of puberty—all voice cracks and weird intervals of growth stunts. Taeyong is soft-spoken and doesn’t have many friends when he approaches and befriends Mark. They’re classmates, sitting right next to each other in the back of the classroom, conveniently right next to the door. Mark gets to know Taeyong slowly, the same gradual falling of starting to care for someone. He knows his boundaries, though, because he is aware that he can never be the closest to Taeyong. Kim Doyoung and Lee Taeyong are attached at the hip, and Mark can’t lie to himself—he feels like a third wheel in the beginning.

But there’s some comfort in the security of their friendship. “It’s you, me, and Doyoung,” Taeyong will tell him, “the three of us against the world.”

They do what regular adolescent boys do: play video games, talk about sports, hang out in each other’s houses, and talk about sports some more. Mark knows he should be grateful to have friends in the first place, but he doesn’t know if he exactly belongs with them. As comfortable as he feels, there’s a whisper in the back of his head telling him that he will never be their number one. He will never be anyone’s number one. 

“I don’t understand girls,” Doyoung says one day, hands tucked behind his head as the three of them lay on Taeyong’s bed. Mark’s flipping through some comic book that Taeyong had laying around, and shifts when he feels Taeyong uncomfortably do so right next to him. 

“You don’t have to.” Taeyong’s eyes flit from Doyoung and then back to his phone. He swipes through some apps but Mark can tell he’s not really paying attention by the glazed-over look in his eyes. “Girls make no sense at this age.”

Mark supposes that Doyoung’s having girl problems again, and it all clicks because lately, Doyoung has been hanging around a pretty girl in their class. They’re cute together, and clearly into each other, but Mark can pick up on the issue: Doyoung’s on the down-low about their relationship. More importantly, he’s been on the down-low about it around Taeyong, which has to be breaking some sort of best friend code. 

Doyoung asks, “You like anyone, Tae?” 

_Tae_ , Mark’s brain echoes, visualizing himself using the name. It sounds awkward coming from him. _Friends give each other nicknames, right? What if I gave him a nickname? How would he react?_

Taeyong flushes behind his phone screen. “Oh, not really,” he replies with an air of indifference. “I dunno, I guess I haven’t really been looking.” 

“How about you, Mark?”

Mark falters for a moment when he realizes he’s been addressed. It’s a normal question; he should have expected it, but it hits him like a tornado and his mind is swirling. Dating has crossed his befuddled mind a few times, sure, but he never prepared an answer because he thought it was going to be straightforward—a simple “yeah, there are a few cute girls in my class.” But that isn’t the case, and Mark’s wondering why there isn’t any clarity in his head.

 _Come on, Mark,_ he urges himself, as if he was complaining to multiple, uncooperating attendants working in his brain. _Just say something_ — _anything._

His mind’s blanking, though, and he’s scared. He can’t quite grasp why his stomach feels like a never-ending pit, but it only worsens when no girls come to mind. He wants to open up his skull, thoroughly examine his head, poke at the areas refusing to work, and figure out why he can’t just spit out the name of any pretty girl in his class; on top of that, he wonders why he can’t just flat-out refuse the statement and claim that there’s no one he’s interested in. Not even a _name_ of a female stirs in his head, and Mark Lee’s struck with a painful realization that there is only one person he can think of.

Taeyong. 

_No, no, no,_ Mark’s brain and his heart scream at each other. _God, Mark Lee, you’re such a fucking masochist._ _There’s no way._

Mark quickly decides that it’s just a phase and he needs to just suppress it until it goes away. It’s just stupid teenage hormones and puberty racking up his sexual libido, starving him of affection he doesn’t actually need in the first place. Mark’s just a messy teenage horndog, and if he doesn’t get a hold over himself, he’s going to crumble and give in to his selfish desires.

Moreover, he can’t believe his entire thought process happens over the span of a couple of seconds. 

_It’s okay,_ he convinces himself. _I’m sure there are plenty of guys who have a moment of weakness like this. You just need to branch out more, that’s all._

Sheepishly, he replies before Doyoung or Taeyong can chew him out, “I don’t really like any girls right now.”

Mark Lee isn’t a liar, but he sure has a knack for beating around the bush. 

━━━━━━━━

Their group expands when they turn fifteen, and Mark and Taeyong grow closer—maybe even closer than Taeyong and Doyoung are. Mark is laying down on his bed one night and cries when he realizes he needs more than one hand to count off his friends now. His shell is broken and his world is bigger. Mark typically lives like his uphills are mountains and his downhills are cliffs, but lately, it feels like the mountains are getting easier to climb and the downhills aren’t that big of a fall. He doesn’t need to stop and catch his breath or worry about falling back down. 

He never feels lonely anymore. If Taeyong and Doyoung aren’t free, he calls Yuta over to play video games or goes to the basketball courts with Johnny and Taeil. Jungwoo and Sicheng call him nearly every night to bother him, but Mark doesn’t mind. He likes them; they make him feel important, like he’s wanted.

“Come on,” Taeyong teases Yuta one day as he’s blushing over some girl. “What are you being so shy about?”

“It’s embarrassing, Taeyong!” Yuta complains, and Mark giggles over how the red starts creeping from his ears to his cheeks. “Not all of us are bulletproof like you.”

“What? I’m not bulletproof!” Taeyong argues, but anyone can see the pride behind his expression. “I’m just not interested in anyone, so none of you guys can even try teasing me.”

Mark thinks he’s finally suppressed the weird, gooey feelings that arise in his chest every now-and-then when Taeyong comes close. However, Taeyong is a respectful individual and doesn’t weasel his way into Mark’s personal bubble. Although, that’s probably for the best because Mark is sure his brain will go haywire if Taeyong is too close for comfort.

And then there’s Lee Donghyuck.

Hyuck enters their circle pretty easily. With his radiant personality and warm presence, it’s no shocker that he’s able to be accepted by the group instantly. He possesses some odd charm that draws people to him, and Mark can’t seem to figure out just how that works. He’s too occupied with the job of keeping Hyuck off of him and out of his personal space.

Out of all of them, Hyuck appears to take a particular liking to Mark. It drives him crazy, though, and he can’t get the younger boy to stop teasing and messing with him. The others can’t figure it out either; Mark just isn’t as bright and bubbly as Hyuck is, so it’s odd for the younger one to chase after someone whose wavelength just isn’t on par with his. Sometimes it’s cute—endearing even—but sometimes it’s just flat-out annoying.

“Mark, Mark,” Hyuck sings, his voice all light and airy as he approaches the older one. “What are you doing for the summer break?”

“Probably sleeping in, hanging out, and more sleeping,” Mark replies indifferently, not sparing him a single glance. 

Mark’s too focused on cleaning out his locker of all books and papers he had thrown in during the year. _Gotta keep this, gotta throw this, gotta return this_ , he thinks, mentally preserving a reminder of his various items. But Hyuck knows how to push Mark’s buttons and grab his attention. He never takes deflection without retaliating back. That’s one of the many reasons Mark finds it hard to be around him.

“And hanging out with Taeyong, huh? Have you realized it yet or are you still suppressing yourself?”

Mark closes his locker with a swift swipe of his hand. His eyes bug out of its sockets as he stares Hyuck down. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he questions, but Hyuck’s already walking away from him. He’s turned away but Mark can visualize that stupid smirk of his like it’s carved into his memory.

Donghyuck is smart. Too smart.

━━━━━━━━

Their summers are filled with watermelons, beach trips, and shy glances at each other. Taeyong drives them places and Mark sits in the passenger seat next to him, toes curled in his shoes because he’s overjoyed. The car is always loud with music and laughter, and if it’s silent, it’s because they’re all sleeping on each other after a long day of being out.

Mark still masquerades the role of a heterosexual male, however, pretending like his heart doesn’t flutter whenever Taeyong’s fingers brush against his.

“Uncle Taeyong,” Donghyuck will joke, rousing laughter from everyone, “are we there yet?” 

“You’re so impatient, Hyuckie,” Taeyong complains back. Mark can’t help but laugh at this and a ghost of a laugh is caught on his lips when he catches a glimpse of Hyuck winking at him in the side mirror. 

Hyuck has a mischievous glint in his eyes as he says, “But you still love me, Tae.” 

_Ah, he’s trying to make me jealous,_ Mark thinks and fights down the urge to laugh. Mark might be harboring a small crush, but he’s not the jealous type. There is one little thing, however, that Mark can’t seem to shake.

For some reason, the buildup to call Taeyong by a nickname makes Mark anxious. He’s never tested it on his tongue, it just floated around in his head. However, when Mark addresses him as “Yong” one day, his heart skips a beat when Taeyong responds with a smile matching the sun’s brightness.

Mark grows closer to Doyoung. He doesn’t feel like the third wheel with him and Taeyong anymore, he feels like they’re all on the same level of closeness now. He and Doyoung hang out sometimes without Taeyong, and despite a few awkward pauses in their interactions, they warm up quickly and Mark learns how to joke with him easily. Doyoung’s not all stiff and dry like he initially was afraid of; rather, he’s multitudes, and every time Mark learns something new about him, like how he eats like a bunny or that he’s scared of animals, he’s even more amazed.

It’s not just Doyoung, though. Mark and Taeyong become closer than ever before, whether it’s for the better or worse. Taeyong only lives a street away so it’s convenient to hang out, and when they don’t hang out, they call. Mark can see Taeyong unravel in front of his eyes; he becomes visibly more comfortable when it’s just the two of them—smiling, laughing, and bursting with unrestrained happiness. It’s not the jubilant memories that tug them closer, however, it’s the despair.

In the first place, it’s an accident that Mark even happens to break down in front of Taeyong.

They’re in his room when it happens, and things are as they always are before Mark senses the calm before the storm. They joke around as usual and pass the time by playing video games, Taeyong perched on his usual spot in the corner of his bed. Mark looks over at him and realizes how close they are as friends.

 _Friends. Just friends_.

He realizes this isn’t what he wants. He doesn’t want to just be Taeyong’s best friend. He wants to be the reason Taeyong smiles, the one to make him blush, and be the one to share his pain and happiness. But Mark’s feelings are the scariest thing he’s ever had to face, and he feels ashamed for even wanting to cross the line drawn between him and Taeyong. 

He can’t dare to bring himself to confess, though. He’s almost positive that Taeyong doesn’t feel the same way, and he’d be risking a fall-out in their current relationship if he tries to admit to anything. What if Taeyong ends up hating him? What if he loses him and all of their friends? What if Mark isn’t the closest person to him anymore?

That’s why Mark feels like Taeyong’s in another dimension, always a layer away. Always.

 _This is your own fucking fault,_ he scolds himself. _You’re the one who fell for your best friend. You did this to yourself. You broke your own heart._

Mark can’t help it when he starts falling apart in front of his best friend. It starts with a broken cough that’s supposed to cover up a sniffle. He's thankful for the loud gunfire from the video game to drown out his soft sobbing, but the sound doesn’t stop Taeyong from noticing his shaking hands gripping the controller.

“You okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

His voice is so shaky, so broken. Taeyong knows Mark’s crying before he sees or hears it.

Taeyong sounds different. He pauses the game and puts his controller down, but Mark’s eyes are still trained on the screen and his hands are still clutching the controller till he’s white-knuckled. Taeyong’s on edge, panicked. It’s a different panic from all the times Mark would be stressing over an assignment and Taeyong would offer some lame piece of advice in return. 

“What happened? What’s wrong?” he asks, searching his face for an answer.

Mark smiles, although faint melancholy is tucked away in the curl of his lip. “Nothing, I’m fine.”

“Now, I know that’s not true.”

His smile breaks. It’s so unfortunate that Lee Taeyong has to have a heart so big. 

He can hear Donghyuck in the back of his head: _Have you realized it yet or are you still suppressing yourself?_ Oh, Hyuck, are you happy now?

Mark starts crying, and it’s not a crescendo of a soft cry gradually building up. It’s loud and all at once, like the cry of a wounded animal. His hands shake more, and he finally drops the controller and his hands bury into his roots, as if tugging his hair would make it all stop, as if it would hurt more than the pain in his heart. 

Taeyong is quick to get off his bed and slide to the ground, right next to Mark. He wraps an arm around his shoulder and it only makes Mark feel _ashamed_. He feels like a disgusting, manipulative animal, so he stiffens up and shrinks back. He can hear his own heartbeat, but he’s pretty sure he’s hyperventilating at a faster pace than the thundering in his chest. The world under him moves, bounces, so he decides to lean into Taeyong.

 _You’re having a panic attack,_ the logical half of Mark Lee informs in a calm, clipped manner, while the other half is screaming and shutting itself down. _Straighten up, put your hands up and behind your head, and breathe. Nice and slow._

Obviously, Mark doesn’t listen to that.

“Mark, talk to me,” comes the softest voice that eases the painful ringing in Mark’s ears.

“I can’t,” he stutters out. “Not now.” _God, why did I let it get to this point?_ he thinks. 

His heavy gasps grow more labored. They become pants and then he curls into himself, sweaty hands tugging and knotting at his hair. And shit, he can’t _breathe._

“I can’t, I can’t,” Mark repeats again and again like a broken record. The desperation in his voice is so ugly.

There’s something fierce in Taeyong’s eyes, like he’s ready to protect Mark from anything or anyone that tries to hurt him, but there’s also softness. “You know, you can tell me anything. Whatever it is, I’ll listen and support you. I’ll never let you suffer alone, Mark.”

That just made Mark want to cry even more. He just replays Taeyong’s words in his head like it’s his favorite song. _Shit,_ that just made his heart swell.

“Alright.” Mark breathes in real deep, through the aching chest and everything. “Uh, well—I don’t know how to say this—Yong, I think I’m, uh, gay.”

Taeyong doesn’t respond for a moment and it rattles Mark’s brain. He fears that he’s overstepped the boundary and that Taeyong’s regretting his poor, misleading wording. Maybe Taeyong just didn’t hear him? But Mark doesn’t want to repeat himself; he doesn’t like repeating himself. 

To Mark’s surprise, Taeyong just smiles. “Well, I don’t see why that’s a problem. It’s perfectly normal to like whoever you want to like.”

Mark opens his mouth to speak but words won’t string together to form a coherent sentence.

“You know, you’re really brave for telling me this, Mark,” Taeyong continues. He flushes and flicks his thumb under his nose—a sheepish mannerism of his that Mark’s picked up on over the years. “Actually, I think we’re in the same boat. I like guys, too. I’m just not brave enough to admit it first like you.”

His words bounce in his skull. Settle. Bounce again.

“You are?” Mark sputters out, and he takes a moment to wonder if he really heard that from Taeyong’s mouth or if his mind was playing tricks on him. He brings himself to ask, “What made you realize?”

There’s a sad smile on Taeyong’s lips when he answers, “Doyoung.”

━━━━━━━━

At the age of sixteen, Mark realizes that he can’t get over Taeyong, but he _can_ suppress his heartbreak and his lingering feelings. 

It physically hurts to think about how deeply ingrained their concept of friendship is, and the possibility that Lee Taeyong would never think of Mark Lee as more than a friend. They have shared too many experiences, worn each other’s shoes and walked miles, to ever become more than what they are. 

Nothing will ever change.

They’re hanging out by a creek near Taeyong’s house. It’s just the two of them, no Johnny to make fun of them or Doyoung to keep Taeyong’s attention. It’s just the two of them and it’s somehow so easy to be with Taeyong like this. Mark can laugh with his stomach and smile with his eyes without feeling the need to close up or shut down. 

“It’s getting annoying isn’t it?” Taeyong asks under his breath and when Mark gives him a puzzled look, he clarifies, “Doyoung.”

Mark picked up on Taeyong’s annoyance toward Doyoung over the past few weeks, but Taeyong’s words confirm his suspicions now. Mark swallows down the lump in his throat, trying to grab at words and shove them together, but he genuinely doesn’t know what to say. 

It’s always been Mark, Doyoung, and Taeyong against the world. Mark never thought about any of them turning on each other. 

Over the past few weeks, Mark has seen Taeyong’s indifference toward Doyoung, but he was too afraid to ask about it. Their friend group was slow to pick up on it, but Mark noticed the way Taeyong would purposely avoid conversing with Doyoung or Doyoung would walk past him quickly if they crossed paths. It’s odd, though, because everyone knows Taeyong and Doyoung are the best of friends—inseparable. How can you hold onto someone for so long and just let go like that?

“But you guys are best friends,” is all Mark can say. 

Taeyong clicks his tongue loud enough to make Mark’s skin crawl.

But Mark doesn’t want to drop it, so he asks, “Did something happen between you guys?”

“Yeah,” Taeyong answers coldly. “Asshole just laughed in my face and called me ‘fucking weird’ when I poured my heart out to him, but it’s fine. I didn’t expect him to feel the same way, but I expected some level of respect, you know?”

 _He confessed_ , Mark thinks, feeling a bit out-of-touch with reality. _And he got rejected._

Mark roils with anger. It burns in the pit of his stomach and the heat makes its way to his chest, his throat, and then his cheeks. He can sympathize with Taeyong’s pain, but more than that, he’s infuriated as a friend. Attraction aside, Taeyong’s a human; if Doyoung was a true friend, he’d be respectful and supportive, the same way Taeyong was when Mark came out to him. 

At the same time, he can’t imagine Doyoung ever doing something like that. 

“I’m sorry, Yong. I don’t know what to say,” is all Mark can muster. 

“Yeah,” Taeyong replies, and Mark is taken aback because he’s never seen Taeyong this bitter. “I’m sorry too.”

━━━━━━━━

It’s been months since Taeyong confessed to Doyoung. Mark’s seventeen now, but he feels hollower as he ages. Taeyong shows up to school and lingers in the group silently, only contributing when spoken to directly. He doesn’t approach Mark anymore or ask to hang out after school. Rather, no one _knows_ what he does after school. He heads straight to his house and goes completely off-radar. He’s “gone off the rails,” as Jungwoo calls it.

Mark cries a few nights over it. He feels like not only is his best friend slipping away from him, but that his disconnection from the group is going to make Mark disconnect as well. However, he grows closer to Donghyuck, surprisingly enough. They call at night sometimes, and Mark isn’t one to normally be vulnerable, but he’s shed a few tears to Hyuck.

“I don’t know what’s going on with him,” Mark says over the phone. “He’s shutting me out, too. He’s never been like this before; everyone always calls him bulletproof.”

“That’s the problem with being bulletproof,” Hyuck replies gravely. “People think they can just keep shooting.”

What Donghyuck tells him that night replays in his head over the next week, over and over again. It hits him a little too hard, and he waits to confront Taeyong about it to tell him that he can be vulnerable too. But he can’t even speak to his best friend these days.

He and his friends try to make plans for the upcoming break together, too, but Taeyong just isn’t interested. He replies with empty words, all around the lines of if he “feels up to it” or if he’s “not too busy.” They all know that he’s full of crap but no one says a word.

Mark assumes it has something to do with Doyoung, but Doyoung is just as confused about it as Mark is. 

“You were the closest person to him,” Mark tells him as they’re leaning against the gates after school. “I think if you talk to him sincerely, then he’ll start being himself again.”

“You’re undervaluing your own existence in his life,” Doyoung replies with a scoff. “Plus, there’s nothing to talk about. He hates me now.”

“Nothing to talk about? Do you realize how much of an asshole you’ve been to him?”

Mark can’t stop the words from leaving his mouth but the anger bubbles up in him without warning. A flame flickers in the back of his throat and he’s too furious to realize that he now has to explain how he knows about Taeyong confessing to him. However, Doyoung’s reaction makes it all stop completely, and he feels like time itself has frozen for them.

“Now, answer me here,” he says slowly, in a voice so low that it sounds like the calm before the storm, “how have _I_ been an asshole toward him?”

Mark speaks carefully, afraid that the wrong words will tick Doyoung off even more, “Taeyong said that you laughed in his face and called him weird when he confessed his feelings—”

Mark’s words are broken by Doyoung’s bitter laugh, like a punch to the face. _“He_ told you that? That I _laughed_ when he confessed to me?” he presses, searching Mark for an answer with an inferno in his eyes. Mark can only nod blankly in response, lips parted in disbelief. “God, that lying fuck. No wonder he’s been avoiding me and acting like this.” 

“Taeyong lied?” Mark’s voice is smaller than he intends.

“He’s delusional,” Doyoung replies with a scoff. “When he confessed, _he_ was the one who acted out. I tried to reject him nicely and tell him that I was still going to be there for him, but he turned batshit crazy. He’s _crazy_ , Mark. Absolutely crazy.”

 _No, no, no, no_ —this isn’t the Taeyong he knows and loves. Taeyong and delusional just doesn’t fit in the same sentence. He's the gentlest creature, always making sure Mark’s doing okay and spreading joy in his life. He’s the one who walked into Mark’s world and expanded his horizons. The person Doyoung’s talking about is foreign to him; Mark doesn’t want to believe a single word until he talks to Taeyong himself.

If he can talk to Taeyong, that is.

“That’s not him,” Mark echoes. “That can’t be Taeyong.”

“Do yourself a favor and drop him, honestly,” Doyoung said, tugging a hand through his hair out of frustration. “Jungwoo’s right. He derailed, Mark, and I doubt we’re going to get him back.”

Those words punch the breath out of him. Mark’s absolutely devastated. He loves both of them, honestly. He’s seen Doyoung and Taeyong mature and grow, not only as friends but as individuals. Now, these significant people in his life are falling apart at the seams, distancing themselves, and cutting each other off. Mark has faced too much change in his life and he’s not ready for more.

“How can you say that?” Mark asks in a whisper. 

“You know how I can say that, Mark?” Doyoung quips, and Mark goes silent by the taunt laced in his words. ”Because when I rejected him, Taeyong said he’d kill me. Actually _kill_ me.”

 _It’s you, me, and Doyoung,_ Taeyong’s voice chimes in his head. _The three of us against the world._

Mark thinks his world’s been shattered, and then he realizes that it’s actually been broken for a long time.

━━━━━━━━

Mark doesn’t know how it started, but he slowly finds solace in Donghyuck. 

They’re sitting on Mark’s bed, controllers in their hand but the screen’s off and the both of them aren’t even in the mood to play. Mark has already explained the whole situation with Taeyong to Hyuck, since he’s the only person who saw through him initially. He retells his interaction with Doyoung earlier in the day, and Hyuck just listens to him silently, nodding every now and then. He’s patient, and he lets Mark finish before he offers his input.

“That’s—wow,” is his reaction. 

“Yeah.”

Hyuck asks the question that Mark’s too scared to answer, “You think he’s gonna do it?” He pauses. “Kill him, I mean.”

Mark laughs, although he’s not sure what spurs the bitter sound from him. “God, that sounds so fucked up, Hyuck. It’s Taeyong. It’s fucking _Taeyong.”_

“Ever heard of Andrew Cunanan? Golden boy by day, and serial killer by night,” Hyuck informs bluntly, his accusatory tone ticking Mark off. “You can’t just trust everyone, Mark. Anyone can change like”—he snaps his fingers—“that.”

“You don’t know him like I do.”

“Don’t be stupid, Mark.” Hyuck shakes his head. “God, you better not still go around trusting someone after they seriously threaten to _kill_ you. I’ll beat you up if you do.”

“Taeyong’s… caring,” Mark defends. “He helped me through a breakdown, and he told me he’d never let me suffer alone. How can someone like that be a killer?"

“Ted Bundy volunteered at a suicide hotline, so what’s your point?”

Mark groans. “Jesus, Hyuck, just let me go through the stages of denial for a _minute._ ”

There’s truth to Hyuck’s words, but Mark’s just too wrapped up in his fantasy to admit it. He doesn’t want to wreck his glorified image of Taeyong, despite how slowly and steadily it’s starting to get tainted. Moreover, he doesn’t want to admit that he’s starting to care for Hyuck a little more and that he’s getting swayed by him. His opinions and words matter too much to Mark now. 

There’s a limit to his teasing. Beyond that, Hyuck cares too much for Mark, to the point that he prioritizes Mark before himself. Somehow, Donghyuck managed to wedge his way into Mark’s life without warning, but Mark doesn’t mind. In fact, he’s glad. A sick, horrible part of him convinces himself that associating with Hyuck more than Taeyong is betrayal, insists that he’s at fault for fooling around like this. But how can Mark chase after someone who’s out of sight?

“It’s sad,” Hyuck says all of a sudden, “that I’ve known you for a few years and have only gotten close to you now.”

“Well, we weren’t interested in deepening our relationship until now. Things have a way of working out, however long it takes.”

Hyuck narrowed his eyes at him. “What are you talking about? You think I didn’t want to be closer before? How do you think I picked up on you liking Taeyong?”

Mark blinks at him stupidly. “Because I was obvious about it?”

“Idiot, I like you.”

Mark blinks a few more times until he fully processes his words. _I like you_ , his brain repeats, and then he reprocesses. _No, Mark, there was an ‘idiot’ before that. Not only are you liked, but you’re stupid as well._ He becomes painfully aware of their knees hitting against each other, but he isn’t sure if he’s reading the situation wrong and jumping to conclusions.

“Wait, platonically?”

This drags a long sigh out of Hyuck. “No, idiot, it means I’ve loved you for two years now and I’m going to kiss you.” Mark has no time to react before Hyuck’s leaning in, a hand steadying him to hover over and reach Mark’s lips. However, when he’s close enough that Mark can see his moles clearly, he panics and asks, “Wait, I forgot to ask: can I kiss you?”

Mark can’t help but laugh, and every ounce of nervousness just slips away. He always thought he could attain this level of closeness with Taeyong, but maybe their relationship is just that fragile, where Mark can just grab the string binding them together and snip it completely. And then, with Hyuck’s breath fanning his lips, he feels Taeyong completely dissolve away from the impounding thoughts in his head. He’s thrown in with the pile of stressors to be addressed later. Right now, it’s Hyuck and only Hyuck.

Mark doesn’t know how to answer cooly (although he’s sure that anything can top Hyuck’s way of asking to kiss him), so he just leans in, cups the younger boy’s cheek, presses his lips against Hyuck’s soft ones. It’s weird, kissing for the first time, but Hyuck leans into it instantly so Mark’s movements are less awkward and more guided. 

Together, they forge and burn a fire hotter than Mark expects. He doesn’t expect Hyuck to drive him this crazy, to crave more, to lust for more. He draws back before he slides his hand into Hyuck’s hair because it’s his first kiss and he doesn’t want to go overboard or ruin anything by going too fast. He settles with their tame kiss and is delighted when Hyuck is clearly happy, his face beaming. 

“That was really nice,” Hyuck praises. 

“Yeah,” Mark agrees. “To be honest, though, I had no idea what I was doing.”

“To be honest, I figured.”

━━━━━━━━

Mark is four months away from becoming an adult when he and Donghyuck decide to make it official. 

While Taeyong still holds a place in his heart as his first love, he grows to love Hyuck. Mark doesn’t want to rush a relationship, mainly because he doesn’t want Hyuck to be a rebound, and Hyuck respects that. So he waits for Mark to figure out his feelings and let his heart choose who is right for him. Mark isn’t dumb, though; he knows that chasing after Taeyong is a hopeless cause.

For months, Mark and Donghyuck drift about in the limbo-state of their relationship. They go on a couple of dates, get to know each other, and spend a lot of time together. Hyuck becomes the person Mark thinks of when he’s falling asleep and when he wakes up in the morning. Not only is he romantically satisfied, but Hyuck fills the role of the best friend he doesn’t necessarily want, but needs. 

They get along surprisingly well, and Mark wonders why he ever had doubts about him in the beginning. Hyuck gets on his nerves at times, but Mark just finds it funny after the wave of annoyance passes. Their friends started to talk about how close they were and frequently brought up the concept of them dating. 

Of course, Mark always denies it, liking the privacy they have.

But as their relationship blossoms into a more serious one, with Mark discovering more to Hyuck than what met his eye, he decides that he didn’t want to keep it casual any longer. So, Mark asks him out and Hyuck, being the lovesick puppy he is, says “yes” without a second thought. Thus, the happy couple is born. 

Mark thinks about how much changed in his life. Taeyong stopped hanging out with them completely, resorting to being alone most of the time. Everyone was concerned about his behavior, but after several attempts of failed confrontation, everyone just collectively gave up. Mark and Doyoung still keep an eye on him, seeking out sources to find out how he’s doing; it’s the most they can do given how little opportunity they have to talk to him. 

Mark is waiting for Donghyuck after class with Doyoung. He doesn’t share many classes with Doyoung anymore, but they’re still close, even after their “three against the world” friendship has gone to shit. Doyoung’s kind, though, and despite his roughness around the edges, he’s gentle enough.

Doyoung drops a bomb on Mark, however, that leaves him stunned. “I’m meeting up with Taeyong tonight to talk to him.”

“Are… are you sure that’s a good idea?” Mark asks, bewildered. “I thought you said we should just move on and drop him?”

“I thought _you_ said we should talk to him first."

“It’s been months, Doyoung,” Mark argues. “Nearly a _year.”_

“I wasn’t going to do anything,” Doyoung admits, “but he’s the one who asked if we could talk.”

━━━━━━━━

Not so long after talking to Doyoung, while he’s waiting in his room for Donghyuck to come over, Mark’s phone rings.

It’s Taeyong.

Mark doesn’t even think about it first, he just picks up the phone immediately. It’s an old habit; he sees Taeyong and just accepts the call right away without a second thought. He never expected Taeyong to ever call him again, so he doesn’t exactly have any practice in rejecting his calls. 

“Mark?” comes the hoarse voice of Lee Taeyong, gentle, but rough around the edges.

“Taeyong?” Mark gulps. “It’s been a while.”

“Mark, I’m sorry,” he apologizes, and Mark isn’t sure what he’s apologizing for. “I love you, okay?” _As a friend, obviously._ “It’s us against the world, Mark.”

“Taeyong, what’s going on?” Mark frowns, and his mind is demanding to know why he’s excluding Doyoung from their phrase and why he’s acting this way all of a sudden. 

“We should… catch up this weekend,” Taeyong says instead. 

Mark pauses, and before Taeyong can ask if he’s still there, he says, “Yeah, yeah. That’d be great.”

“Alright, bye,” Taeyong whispers. Mark almost doesn’t catch it because he’s so quiet, and that’s the last he hears before Taeyong hangs up on him.

━━━━━━━━

Mark’s deepest regret is answering his phone later that night.

“Calm down, babe.” Hyuck hushes a hyperventilating Mark. “I’m sure Doyoung and Taeyong are fine. They’re probably just talking it out, and then they’re going to wish each other good luck in life, and then leave.”

“Then why are they taking so _long?”_ Mark asks. “Doyoung said he’d call me after, and it’s been an hour, Hyuck. An _hour.”_

There’s a hint of jealousy in Hyuck’s tone when he says, “Are you worrying because it’s Taeyong?”

Mark sighs. Hyuck makes him take a step back and relax, easing his nerves a bit. Getting worked up is only stressing out his boyfriend too, so he takes Hyuck’s face in his hands and kisses his forehead gently. Donghyuck relaxes under his grip, and Mark can feel a knot in his chest unwind.

“I’m worrying for Doyoung because I’m scared of what Taeyong could do to him,” Mark explains, and as if it’s on cue, his phone rings. He sees Doyoung’s caller ID and shares a wary glance with Hyuck before he picks it up. “Doyoung? What’s up?"

To Mark’s surprise, Doyoung’s sobbing on the other side of the line. The sound chills him to the bone. He’s never heard Doyoung cry, and this sort of cry is frantic and mangled, like he’s spiraling out of control. Hyuck’s eyebrows are knitted into a frown right next to him; Doyoung’s loud enough for him to hear. 

“Mark, you have to come over quickly,” Doyoung begs through broken sobs and heavy breaths. “Please, Mark, I made a huge mistake.”

Mark’s mind jumps to the wildest, most morbid theories, and he doesn’t want to believe any of them, so he asks, “Doyoung, calm down. What happened?”

“Just come over here. Please. I’ll text you where to go. Just hurry.” And he hangs up. 

“I’m coming with you,” Hyuck declares.

Mark is too fazed right now to stop him, so as soon as Doyoung texts him the address, they head out into the night.

━━━━━━━━

It’s a port that Doyoung directs them too, and it’s so fucking sketchy but Mark is so fucking stupid; he isn’t thinking. He should’ve stayed back with Hyuck, where it’s _safe_ , but he’s a fucking fool. 

Mark can hear Doyoung before he sees him. He hears silent sobs behind a metal storage unit and he and Hyuck inch closer hesitantly. Mark’s heart drops into his stomach; he’s dreading the worst, and when he turns the corner into the closed area Doyoung’s in, he realizes that the sight in front of him is the worst it can get.

Taeyong’s body.

It takes him a minute to reorient himself and realize that Taeyong’s not just passed out, he’s dead. Mark sees the blood pooling around him and the wounds piercing his abdomen and staining his white shirt, but his brain denies it. He convinces himself that Taeyong is going to get up any second now and laugh it off on the way to the hospital. He’s bulletproof, isn’t he? Lee Taeyong can’t die, he’s too strong to fall victim to that.

But that’s not the case.

It’s not fear that overtakes Mark, not an overwhelm of emotion, it’s numbness. He stares at Taeyong’s body as it bleeds out in a pool, and he feels an odd disconnect. In his mind, he tries to convince himself that Taeyong’s not beaten up to death in front of him with a deep gash in his stomach. He tries to pretend that he’s just knocked out cold and unconscious. 

_You’re fine, Taeyong,_ he urges. _Wake up. Get up. Look at me._

He tilts his head where he can see Taeyong’s face turned to the side against the concrete. His lifeless eyes just stare into nothingness and Mark realizes that he’s never going to see Taeyong’s warm, sincere eyes ever again. He’s never going to see his bright smile or hear his contagious laugh again.

God, where did everything go wrong?

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Hyuck chokes from behind him. He’s staring down at Taeyong’s body in horror, and it’s slowly replaced with anger. “Doyoung, what the fuck did you do?”

“Shit, it was self-defense, man,” Doyoung whimpers out, a sob choking him up. “He pulled a knife on me and I tried to stop him, but he was so ready to stab me to death. I couldn’t do anything else. I couldn’t run."

Mark doesn’t say anything. He just stares at Taeyong. 

“Come on, guys,” Doyoung pleads. “I can’t go to fucking prison. I’m eighteen; it’s not juvie, it’s a life sentence.” Mark doesn’t know what Doyoung’s getting at until he requests the unthinkable, “Help me get rid of the body.”

Mark wants to puke. His breathing is slow and he feels like if he opens his mouth to speak, all that’s going to come out is vomit. He eyes the shiny metal soaked in blood that Doyoung’s clutching. He’s never seeing Taeyong again. He’s not going to catch up with him over the weekend. He’s not going to hear his voice again.

_Jesus Christ._

“Get rid of the body?” Hyuck raises his voice. “Doyoung, what the fuck are you going to do when they realize he’s gone missing? You just _killed_ someone! This is on _you,_ Doyoung, not us.”

“I’ll help,” Mark croaks out, eyes stinging with the threat of tears. This rouses a relieved, shaky breath from Doyoung, who nearly doubles over. 

“Thank you, Mark, thank you,” he cries. 

But Hyuck is infuriated by this, so he reaches over and grabs Mark by the shoulders. “I’m not letting you get blood on your hands and mess with the scene of a _crime._ You need to think rationally.”

“Doyoung’s gonna get arrested if we don’t help him, Hyuck,” Mark says in a voice that doesn’t even sound like his own, but he’s so numb to what’s going on that he just crouches down and grabs Taeyong’s feet. He couldn’t get over how limp they were. He isn’t even sure if he’s doing the right thing but he can’t bear the thought of losing both of his best friends right now. “Doyoung, get his arms.”

Hyuck watches helplessly, horror-stricken. “The body’s gonna float and show up somewhere,” he counters.

Doyoung looks terrifyingly pale. Mark wonders if it’s just the glow of the moon or if holding in his urge to puke too. “We cut the stomach so he sinks.”

“How do you even know that?” Hyuck asks, the disgust clear in his voice. 

“Read about it.” Doyoung bent down and grabbed Taeyong’s biceps. “We’re going to dump him in the bay right there, and then forget this happened.”

Hyuck mutters, “Fucking hell.”

Mark doesn’t respond. He hauls Taeyong up with Doyoung’s help and grunts when he realizes just how heavy a dead body is. It’s not like he’s ever tried to lift Taeyong up in the past, but he’s sure that Taeyong’s never been this heavy. They inch it toward the docks and Mark is glad that it’s too dark for anyone to see them. Doyoung’s arms give out just as they get it on the dock, and he lets Taeyong’s upper half collapse on the solid wood, his skull making a loud _thud._

Mark grimaces. He feels sick to his stomach as Doyoung asks him to hold Taeyong’s body while he cuts open the stomach. It’s _putrid_. Mark keeps his eyes closed shut as the metallic smell of blood invades his nostrils. Mark opens his eyes and looks down at his hands to see them stained with blood. Taeyong’s blood. It can’t be anyone’s but Taeyong’s, but Mark is still grossed out.

 _Doyoung is cutting open your old best friend,_ he thinks distantly. _What the fuck are you doing, Mark?_

“Okay, I got it,” Doyoung says, wiping at his cheek which leaves a smear of blood. Mark stares at it; he looks ghostly. “Help me push him in.” He turns to Mark, who just stares in the distance blankly. “Mark. Mark?” he calls to no avail. “Fine. I’ll do it myself.”

“This is fucking sick.” Hyuck shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

This ticks Doyoung off, but he finishes his job before he starts an argument. He grunts and shoves Taeyong’s body into the murky water. It stirs a loud splash but that’s the last of Lee Taeyong. Mark catches a glimpse of his expressionless face wavering in the water before he sinks to the bottom, and he knows that it’s going to haunt him for the rest of his life.

“I don’t see _you_ trying to help!” He threateningly points the knife at Hyuck. “All you’ve done is complain and fucking judge me, and it’s pissing me off. Why don’t you take some pointers from your boyfriend, huh? Look at how good and obedient he’s been.”

“He’s fucking petrified,” Hyuck chokes over his words. “Good and obedient? What’s gotten into you, Doyoung?” He pauses and then takes a step back when realization washes over him. “Wait… did you plan this?”

Mark looks into the water where Doyoung threw Taeyong off. That was the last he was ever going to see of Taeyong, his first love. He's never going to see Lee Taeyong ever again. 

Mark can’t handle it and pitches forward on the edge of the dock, throwing up until he heaves up bile. He sobs through it all, mournful and low, as Doyoung and Hyuck argue behind him. He can’t bring himself to snap back into reality, though, because he’s just committed an act that he can’t even forgive himself for.

Doyoung suddenly laughs into the night, and it’s haunting and cold. “Shit, well, we both planned it, I guess. Taeyong just pulled out his knife first.”

Mark feels like he’s been hit by a truck. He turns around and looks at Doyoung, but there is no familiarity anymore. He doesn’t know the crazed man in front of him. “You lied to me?” He sounds so broken, so beyond repair that it’s sad. He’s sick of being so miserable.

“Mark, you’re too trusting,” Doyoung says, scoffing down at his hunched-over figure. 

Mark’s lower lip quivers as he asks, “What happened to the three of us against the world?”

“It’s every man for himself now.” Doyoung’s hand gripping the knife starts shaking and he looks between Mark and Hyuck. “God, you won’t tell, right? You won’t snitch on me, right?” When the two don’t respond, Doyoung’s desperation is clear. “Right guys? You won’t sell out your best friend, right?”

Mark and Donghyuck lock eyes but can’t bring themselves to answer Doyoung. Mark can’t fake it; he’s not a liar. 

“Fuck,” Doyoung bites out. “I’ll just need to get rid of you both too.”

He’s never understood the term “paralyzed by fear” until he sees the murderous look in Doyoung’s eyes, and it hits him that Doyoung’s serious about his threat. God, he and Taeyong are birds of a feather; both crazed, delusional boys. He doesn’t even know which one of them to believe, but then he can’t even think when he sees Doyoung raise the knife and step closer to him. 

“Mark! Run!” Hyuck cries, but Mark can’t run. He’s trapped. There’s nowhere to go. 

So he dives right into the bay where Taeyong’s body lays, right back to the icy embrace of his first love.

━━━━━━━━

“And you forgot everything after that?” Detective Jeong asks, his lips curled into a deep-set frown. “Well, we received an anonymous tip and searched the area soon after, and that’s when we found you and Taeyong’s body. You swam to get his body and held onto it until authorities had to forcefully pull you away.”

Mark doesn’t respond. Part of him is relieved that Taeyong wasn’t just left at the bottom of the bay, and the other part of him is wondering how the fuck he didn’t drown because Mark isn’t that great of a swimmer. Moreover, he just wants to know where the fuck Hyuck is.

Detective Jeong continues, “You kept muttering ‘you and me, against the world’ over and over again.”

Mark wants to cry. He bites his chapped lip and can taste blood that he doubts is even there. He doesn’t want to hear it. He doesn’t want to hear about Taeyong right now.

He sucks in a shaky breath.”Where’s Hyuck?”

Detective Jeong eyes him for a moment. There’s emotion in his gaze now and it’s pity. Mark feels so disgusted being looked down upon like that, but he just returns the look with empty apathy. The detective mutters something like “I’ll be back,” and then leaves the room, leaving Mark handcuffed to the table. 

A minute passes. Another. Several more roll by. Mark’s sure that it’s been an hour after a long period of staring at the wall, but the passage of time is meaningless now. He can wait hours, even days; he doesn’t want to be confronted with whatever cruel reality awaits him. He’s so tired of this, so exhausted that he doesn’t even think of his parents. Are they here? Were they informed about his arrest? 

The door opens and Mark’s head shoots up. His stomach drops and his eyes are practically bugging out of their eye sockets as he awaits the news. He doesn’t realize just how painful anticipation is until this very moment. 

“You’re free to go, Mark,” Detective Jeong says, pulling out a silver key to uncuff him from the table.

Mark is frozen. He just stares up at Detective Jeong with his jaw hanging open.

“We just got the confirmation,” he elaborates. “Security footage proved you innocent so you’re free to go. Your friend, Kim Doyoung, has been arrested on a count of second-degree murder. Your parents are waiting outside for you.”

“And Donghyuck?” Mark asks timidly, wondering why he keeps averting his question. 

“Let’s go, son.” 

Detective Jeong helps him to his feet and escorts him out of the room. Mark doesn’t have proper control of his own feet; he feels detached from his physical body. Detective Jeong escorts him to pick up the stuff they took when they placed him in the holding cell—his car keys, his wallet, his phone. Then, he’s taken back to the waiting room where his parents are on the end of the far rows of seats.

At the sight of him, they leap from their place and rush over, hands cupping his face and arms embracing his weak, battered figure. There’s so much love in their eyes, and their fear over possibly losing their son replaces any anger they had toward the situation. However, Mark wouldn’t be surprised if he got an earful the next day.

“Mom, Dad,” Mark cries out, suddenly overcome with emotion. He’s immediately aware of how weak and pathetic he feels. “I’m sorry, I—”

“Shh, it’s okay,” his father silences him. “We’re just glad you’re safe and that crazy bastard is in prison.”

“Hyuck—”

“He just left with his family,” his mom assures. “He’s safe too, honey.”

Mark’s arches his brow and looks up at Detective Jeong for an explanation. “You wouldn’t tell me anything about him,” he says, trying to conceal the anger in his voice.

“I lied,” Detective Jeong admits. “He was here the whole time, but I had to make sure both of your stories matched up so I could let you two go.” He nods at his parents and pats Mark on the back. “You take care of yourself, okay?”

Mark isn’t sure how to respond but he settles with a robotic “yeah, I will.”

There’s still a ghost of a smile on Mark’s lips as his parents take him out of the prison house and to their car. They gush and gush about how glad they are about him being safe and sound. Mark is happy, of course, but he feels so empty on the inside. They drive by the bay on the way back, and he notices his parents tighten their jaws when Mark immediately turns his head to look down at his lap. He just sees Taeyong’s hollowed cheeks and dead eyes whenever he sees the water.

Mark pulls out his phone from his back pocket to try and text Hyuck. As he thought, it doesn’t turn on. He’s amazed that his items (although water-damaged) managed to stay in his pockets when he took that dip in the bay. 

“Mom, can I use your phone?” Mark asks politely, to which his mom really can’t resist. She hands him her phone and Mark immediately dials Hyuck’s number (he has it memorized because it’s only a few numbers off from his dad’s). 

It rings four times and by the fifth ring, Mark is scared that he’s not going to pick up the phone. And then, it beeps.

“Hello?” Hyuck answers.

It’s like a huge weight is lifted off of his shoulders to really hear Hyuck’s voice. Despite Detective Jaehyun informing him that Hyuck is, indeed, alive, Mark feels more reassured hearing it from his boyfriend himself. Mark wants to cry right then and there, but he doesn’t want to make his parents worry unnecessarily.

He forgets he’s even supposed to respond when Hyuck speaks again, “Is anyone there?”

“Hyuck, it’s me,” Mark mumbles softly before he hangs up on him. “Mark.”

“Mark!” Hyuck exclaims from the other end of the line. “Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?”

“I’m completely fine,” Mark assures.

According to Hyuck, Mark was the perfect distraction. Hyuck was able to run away from Doyoung swiftly, and thankfully, the police came almost immediately after because the owner of the shipyard had contacted the authorities when he heard yelling and ruckus. Hyuck also added that he intentionally made a lot of noise and irritated Doyoung as an attempt to draw attention. 

“Jesus,” Mark whispers into the phone, breathing out a little laugh, “this is all so fucked up.”

Mark can hear the smile when Hyuck says, “For now, but we’re going back to our normal lives, Mark.”

“Yeah, Hyuck. Us against the world.”

━━━━━━━━

Mark is eighteen when his life finally takes a turn for the better. Taeyong and Doyoung’s faces still haunt him some nights, and he ends up crying and screaming a lot, but Hyuck’s there for him, and all of his other friends. He goes to therapy now too, which was a recommendation from his parents after he woke them up one night by punching the wall and screaming. 

He’s glad that his friends don’t treat him any differently or distance themselves since the incident. In fact, he’s deepened his bond with them since then. Sicheng calls him more frequently now, Yuta schedules more hangouts, and Taeil always texts to make sure Mark’s doing well. Of course, there was the initial shock when they found out that Doyoung killed Taeyong and then tried to kill him and Hyuck. 

They’re heading to the same lunch table they always eat at, and Mark hesitates before sitting down. Usually, Taeyong would sit right next to him, wedged between him and Doyoung. Now, the space near Mark is empty and it feels _cold_.

That is, until Hyuck takes the seat.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Hyuck says. “This kind of change is good, right?”

Mark isn’t sure why he finds it weird. He also isn’t sure why the others don’t find it weird. They just sit in their usual spots at the table, not finding it weird that Hyuck’s moved to the complete opposite side of the table. Hyuck has a point though. Mark can’t keep pretending that Taeyong’s going to come back and sit next to him; he needs to move on.

“Mark Lee, you’re spacing out,” Jungwoo says with a laugh, waving his hand in front of Mark’s face.

He snaps out of it. “Sorry, you’re right,” Mark complies and moves his lunch over so Hyuck has space. “I just really felt his absence for a minute there.”

One thing Mark isn’t certain of is Taeyong, however. He’s insistent on believing that Taeyong was innocent and had no ill-intentions throughout the whole ordeal. At the same time, Mark comes to terms with that fact that he might never find out about Taeyong’s true nature, and perhaps that’s for the better.

Taeyong’s funeral is upsetting. He can’t look Taeyong’s parents in the eye knowing that Taeyong’s blood was under his fingernails at one point. Even as they are embracing him and thanking him for being a good friend to their son, Mark can only fight down the urge to cry and grunt in response. 

On the bright side, he’s doing better. Therapy is good for him, he thinks. 

They say life-or-death situations bring people closer together, and, well, Mark assumes it works because he and Hyuck grow even closer. He can confidently say he loves Hyuck—it’s always been a word in the back of his throat, waiting to be mustered. When he finally tells Hyuck, it’s a beautiful moment because it’s genuine for the both of them. There are still nights where Mark still grieves over the loss of Taeyong, but it’s better when Hyuck’s with him and stops him from doing anything stupid. 

Mark doesn’t know what’s going to happen to them in the future, but he enjoys what they have for now. So, yes, Mark’s life was crumbling far before he met Donghyuck; however, Donghyuck is a builder, a creator, and Mark knows he can just sculpt himself back together with the ghosts of his past. 

Because now it’s Mark and Hyuck, the two of them, against the world.

**Author's Note:**

> and it's complete! god, if i could manifest my feelings about writing this fic.
> 
> mark's an unreliable narrator, so was taeyong sane the entire time? was doyoung always the unstable one? well, that's up to you to piece together.
> 
> thank you for reading!


End file.
